


The Lost Dancer

by MsMidnightChai



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, F/F, Fantasy, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Original Character(s), Sex, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:53:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22199665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsMidnightChai/pseuds/MsMidnightChai
Summary: As the Lunar Revel approaches Ionia once again, whispers of war and betrayal mingle with the festive air. Hesitantly assuming her role as a guardian of the First Lands, Irelia struggles to confront the ghosts of her past and find inner peace. When she receives an unexpected visit from an old friend,  a journey is sparked that will intertwine their lives and challenge her views in ways that she never could have imagined.
Relationships: Karma/Xan Irelia
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	The Lost Dancer

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read this. This is my first attempt at publishing my work, and it's planned to be a long one! I love the League of Legends universe, and wanted to challenge myself to write something inspired by various lore tidbits and expand on them. I hope you enjoy coming along on this journey with me. Thank you, and happy reading!

Sunlight reflected off Xan Irelia's floating blades as she guided them around her body in a graceful arc. The gardens of the Placidium were empty as the sun rose on the horizon, the snow-dusted trees and the Blade Dancer painted in hues of red, orange and yellow. A cool breeze caressed her long dark hair and cloak. She closed her eyes and inhaled slowly, deeply, as she attempted to steady her racing thoughts. Poise, confidence, joy. The three principles of dance Irelia's grandmother had instilled in her when she was but a child. She latched onto those words desperately, repeating them in her mind like a mantra as she spun with her blades and continued her dance.

But her movements were strained. Her limbs were stiff, awkward. With every step and turn, she could feel the weight of the steel. The weight of her body. How could she be confident, knowing that she had failed so many people? How could she spread joy, knowing that her blades were drenched in blood? Images of her family, cut down by Noxus and left to rot in unmarked graves at their home, their sanctuary, were burned into her mind. The people of her village, the people of the Placidium that she was unable to protect. Even though that was years ago, their ghosts still haunted her dreams; a night of restful sleep was a rarity.

It was always the same nightmare. Thrust back into the heart of the First War, a messenger brought the news to the Placidium: Irelia's village had been overrun by Noxus. Dread knotted her stomach as the young girl frantically raced home. 

But she was never fast enough.

Countless bodies laid in the street, twisted and mangled. Noxian banners were paraded in the streets. Soldiers shattered windows and doors, pillaging the homes of the dead and the living. The latter were added to the piles in the road, tossed aside like garbage. Houses were lit ablaze. The stench of smoke and rot ravaged her senses. Bile rose in her throat. She covered her mouth and choked down a sob, recognizing familiar faces, young and old, among the bodies.

Pulse hammering in her ears, Irelia ran to the Xan family home, weaving through the dark, lush forests, avoiding the eyes of the soldiers. Her father, her brothers, they must be alive. Even though it was always the same, even though part of her knew it was too late, she stubbornly clung to that last bit of hope; it was all that she had. 

But the graves had already been dug. The soldiers had already defiled their home. Every time. No matter which route she took, no matter how fast she ran, she couldn't save anyone. Soldiers filtered in and out of the house, hauling out various items from their conquest. Among them, Irelia spotted a large metal crest, a layered triangle with red and gold ribbons hanging from each end set in a smooth ring: the Xan family emblem. The last piece of her home. Rage like she had never known filled her entire being.

Emotions guiding her actions, she leapt in front of the men and snatched the heirloom with deft hands, practically snarling at them in her grief and anger.

From behind, a shadow towered over her.

Then she was on the ground. She cried out as she clutched the heirloom to her chest like a lifeline. Turning her head, she met eyes with a broad-shouldered man donning ornate black and red armor with gold accents. A blade in a black sheath inlaid with gold flourishes rested at his hip. He peered down at her, expression twisted in sick amusement.

"Grab her," he said to one of the men. "And the crest."

Without hesitation, one moved to seize her shoulders.

"No!" she cried out as he latched on to her. She struggled against his hold, and a second came over to wrench the crest from her grasp. In defiance, she spit in the direction of the commander, glaring and heaving like a cornered animal.

Cold iron met her face and her head reeled in pain. The soldier with her family's crest flexed his fingers.

"Show some respect, child. You are in the presence of the great Admiral Duqal," he said.

Irelia tasted blood in her mouth. Her cheek throbbed in time with her racing heartbeat. The pride in his voice disgusted her. How could they follow someone like this? Through her tousled hair, she peered up at Duqal, the fire in her eyes refusing to die.

He scoffed in response and his expression darkened. "Pathetic. I have no time for the ravings of a girl. Destroy that thing, and make her watch. Then bury her with the others."   
  
Irelia's heart sank as the Admiral turned and walked away. The two men wasted no time. One bound her hands and forced her over to a nearby clearing, while the other brought over a hefty iron maul. She desperately tried to break free, but the harder she struggled against his grip, the harder the man clamped down on her arm, until she cried out in pain and relented. Tears streamed down her face as she could only watch them bring the maul down on the crest.

Shattered blades and bits of steel fell to the ground with a clatter, Irelia's spirit nearly breaking alongside them as the men hollered and laughed. She crumpled in the soldier's grip and fell to her knees. Her captor shoved her to the ground, and she laid still in the dirt, the flames of her anger finally going out.

But then something prodded at her heart, so gently at first she thought she was going mad, but it didn't stop. A pulse with a slow and steady rhythm. Muffled voices in a language that was both alien and familiar, like a song from a distant memory. Her eyes snapped to the broken family crest in the dirt. One of the steel blades shifted ever so slightly under her gaze.

The men's cheers faded to a distant lull as the pulse grew louder, like a drum. That feeling in her heart enveloped her entire body, warm and soft, yet strong. Memories flashed through her mind. Like how her father would embrace her and caress her hair as a child. How she would dance with her grandmother, weaving silk around her body like flowing water, heart swelling with joy and pride for her people's traditions. The birds' songs on a clear day, high in the thick, flowering trees of Navori. 

Irelia's people called to her. _Ionia_ called to her.

The swords began to rise. The men stopped laughing.

Her former captor fell to the ground with a heavy thud, blood flowing from his slit throat. She stood slowly, steadying herself. The Xan family crest fell in line around her body, now a ring of six blades. The other one yelled, drew his own sword, and charged at her. Foolish.

And so began their dance. She waved her arms gracefully, and the blades followed suit. She stepped forward and spun once, blocking his strike. A sharp clang sounded at the clashing steel, and his weapon fell to the side.

He stepped away from her, eyes wide. She paused to consider him. Even though he was much larger, he quivered like a frail leaf in the wind. Pity crossed her mind for a brief moment, and the blades pulled back.

Noticing her hesitation, he drew a small dagger from his hip and lunged forward. "Die, witch!"

Irelia leapt back, but was too slow. She screamed as the blade met her side, slicing through her skin. The floating swords wavered and nearly fell to the ground as she stumbled to the side, breathing heavily. The man grinned at his handiwork and stepped toward her, raising his arm to strike again.

Irelia twirled to the side, raised her arms above her head, then brought them down sharply.

The man was dead before he hit the ground.

Irelia winced and gripped her side, trying to stop the blood flowing from the wound, pain surging through her as the adrenaline faded from her body. She looked at the corpses and recoiled in horror. Even though they were ordered to kill her, the idea of taking a life was unthinkable to the Navori, regardless of the circumstances.

Physically and mentally exhausted, Irelia fled deep into the woods to mourn. Both her people and those whose lives she took.

She had relived the same memories hundreds of times now. Even though she returned years later to end Duqal's reign personally, vengeance had not brought her joy. Many regarded her as a savior and a champion, but the same cycle of grief continued. When would it end? Years of meditating and dancing, day after day, perfecting her mind and body, yet she still could not find lasting peace. How could she expect to bring that to anyone else?

With careful steps, Irelia continued her dance. The floating swords hummed gently and formed a loose circle around her midsection as she twirled once, twice, then softly planted her feet. She brought her hands to her heart and bowed her head, deep in thought. Over the years, so many had died by her hand. Sure, it was in the name of Ionia, but did that make it right? Did it make her any different from Duqal?

Guilt gnawed at her heart and mind until it felt it might devour them both. She let out a cry of frustration and the blades splayed out from her body. With a swoop of her arms, they hummed and surged forward, thudding into a nearby tree trunk.

The deep sound snapped Irelia back to the present moment. Her heart skipped, and her eyes traveled to where the sacred blades now rested. A shiver coursed through her body, whether from the cold or from her actions, she wasn't sure. She fell to her knees, chest rising and falling with sharp, ragged breaths, creating a fine mist in the cool air.

Tears fell down her cheeks, stinging her eyes as she tried to blink them away. "I'm sorry, everyone," she whispered, her throat tight. "Grandmother, please. What should I do?". She tilted her head back and something cold and wet touched her forehead. Snow. Through blurred vision, she gazed at the darkening sky as the snow began to fall, entranced, yearning desperately for a reply.

But the garden was silent.

Irelia brought her hands to her face and wept.  
  


* * *

It was late morning when Irelia made her way to the Placidium's central plaza. She smiled and bowed her head in greeting to passersby. Although her heart was still heavy, she held her head high; she refused to trouble others with her own demons. The vast area was now bustling with activity, some moving to and fro between buildings, while others stopped to take in the winter sights. Irelia stopped on a wooden bridge above a river to admire the scenery, herself.  
  
Interwoven into a sprawling mountainside, the Placidium's natural beauty attracted visitors from all of Runeterra. Several streams flowed through the plaza alone, with thick, bright moss and brush dotting the rocky landscape. A large old, red and gold pagoda rested at its heart. Trees so tall and robust that could rival the mountains themselves stretched into the sky around all sides. Many of the facilities were constructed with nature in mind, some perched on top of stone formations that overlooked massive waterfalls, while others were carved directly into the rock itself.

Red paper lanterns and glowing lights in a rainbow of colors were being strung along the sweeping, gabled rooftops by some of the residents. Students of all ages carrying books and satchels strolled along. Monks stopped to pray at shrines, heads bowed. Children laughed and chased each other through the gardens. From far off, she could hear the sounds of a flute and drums. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, relaxing into the gentle rhythm and pulling her heavy cloak close to her body. She had missed this place.

"Miss Irelia!" a high voice called out to her.

Startled, she jumped at the noise and turned around. A young girl ran over and grinned up at her. She wore a simple tunic and pants with a navy cloak, and her dark hair was gathered up in two buns. She waved at Irelia excitedly.

"Oh, Miyu," Irelia said, exhaling with relief. "You scared me. Don't sneak up on me like that, please."

"Sorry, Miss Irelia," Miyu said, though her brown eyes were still twinkling with amusement and she stifled a giggle.

"It's alright." Irelia smiled and gestured around the plaza with a hand. "So, are you ready for the Lunar Revel, Miyu?"

"Oh, yes, yes! Everything already looks so beautiful!" Miyu said and pointed at some of the decorated buildings around them. "My mother is even making me a special, red dress! You just _have_ to see it, Miss Irelia!"

Irelia chuckled. "That sounds great. I'm sure it will look lovely on you."

"Mmhm!" Miyu smiled and tilted her head. "Oh but I do want to see you dance again, Miss Irelia. Please tell me you'll be performing for us!"

She forced her best smile for the girl. "I'm not sure yet, Miyu. But... we'll see, alright?"

Miyu pouted in response but nodded. "Okay, okay. Oh!" Her eyes brightened and she clapped her hands once. "I just remembered. I went to say 'hi' to Papa at the Wall of Remembrance, and someone there said they were looking for you."

Irelia's brow rose at that. "And who might that someone be?"

"Um," Miyu started, then bit her lip and fiddled with her cloak, "well, I kind of forgot to ask her name before I came to find you." 

Irelia shook her head and sighed. "Miyu, if it's someone asking for dance lessons again, you can tell them I don't—"

"Oh no it wasn't about that! She said she was your friend and she just wanted to talk to you." Miyu interrupted. "She seemed nice, and she was really pretty! Oh and she had this really nice white cloak, like a snow princess . . ." she trailed off, looking happily lost in her thoughts about whoever this mystery person was.

"Look. Miyu, I—"

As soon as Irelia was about to protest further, a loud bell tolled three times in the distance, the sound resonating throughout the plaza.

"Oh no," Miyu's eyes widened at the sound. "I'm sorry, Miss Irelia, I'm going to be late to class!" She started running across the bridge, then stopped, turned, and as if she had suddenly remembered her manners, bowed her head to Irelia. "Bye for now!" she called out before running off as quickly as she came, bumping into a few people along the way.

Questions rushed through Irelia's mind. A friend? Who would even want to see her right now? And how did this woman know to ask Miyu? She leaned back against the bridge railing and crossed her arms. The sound of the flute and drums continued, and Irelia nodded her head along with the beat for a while, eyeing the water flowing downstream below her. Part of her wanted to ignore the request altogether, but part of her couldn't ignore the curiosity nagging at her.

Then the thought of Miyu's infectious smile made its way to the forefront of her thoughts. Even if it was a solicitor, Irelia knew deep down that she couldn't just ignore them, as much as she'd like to just return to her quarters. With that, she sighed and pushed off from the railing and made her way across the plaza, toward the Wall of Remembrance.

* * *

It didn't take her long to spot the person in question. When she arrived at the monument, the woman was seated on the ground in front of it, her white cloak contrasting starkly with the large, dark monolith that stretched across the grove. Her back was facing Irelia, the hood of the cloak pulled over her head. Only a few other men and women were here, observing the names etched into the wall in silence or offering flowers and trinkets as tribute. Surrounded by trees and dense, verdant bushes and flowers on all sides, combined with the snowflakes slowly falling to the ground, it reminded Irelia of a scene from a beautiful painting; she didn't want to break the silence.

But the woman in white shifted and slowly stood up. She brought her hands up to pull down her hood, exposing short, dark hair as she turned around to look at Irelia, head-on, as if she had been expected. Irelia's breath caught in her throat.

The other woman smiled at her warmly, her dark skin accentuated by her cloak. She was wearing a simple, silver tiara with a green gem in the center. A pair of matching silver hoops chimed softly as she stepped closer. Her bright, violet eyes took her in. They were gentle, yet piercing in a way that Irelia could never forget, like they were seeing through her.

This was the last person she had expected.

"Darha," Irelia said quietly, her brow furrowed in confusion. Why was she here?

"Hello, Irelia," Darha said, her voice as soft and gentle as her movements. "It's a pleasure to see you again after so long. I just wish it were under better circumstances." She paused for a moment and her smile faded. "I apologize for the abruptness, but there's something I need to discuss with you."


End file.
